Page 30 of Yours to Break

Hayes’s lips quirked up. “No, you don’t. Be good, and stay still until I close the door.” He tapped a code into the electronic lock, opening the door once it beeped. The door closed and locked behind him, leaving us locked in together. Hayes walked over to where I was sitting, lowering himself to the floor and placing the tray between us. I watched him suspiciously as he gestured to the food. “It’s just oatmeal and toast. I wasn’t sure if you’d be nauseous after last night, so it’s nothing special, but won’t bother your stomach.”

I glared at him, but pulled the tray closer to me. I looked at the cup beside the food. “Is that apple juice?”

“Yes. I figured your sugar might’ve crashed after all the excitement. I can bring you more if you finish that cup.”

I stared blankly at it. “Why did you do this?”

His head tilted. “I’m assuming you’re not asking about breakfast?” I nodded, my gaze lowered to avoid eye contact. He sighed, “Didn’t we go over this last night?”

“Yeah, but… I—” Hayes cut me off.

“Shh, pet.” I flinched as he reached over to pet my hair. “This was how it was always going to end up.”

My breathing quickened. I snapped, “But what isthis?I just need to know if I’m going to be killed, or—or harvested for organs, or pimped out, or—”

“Oliver,” Hayes said, his voice low and firm, “be quiet. None of that is happening.”

I burst out into a waterfall of tears. I sobbed, “I’m scared. I don’t understand! I don’t want to be here!” Hyperventilating, I struggled to keep speaking. “I just—please—I-I don’t want—to—die.” Hayes pulled me onto him, rotating me so that we were chest to chest.

“Breathe. Breathe with me, baby,” he instructed. He hugged me tightly, pressing my face into his chest. I tried to follow his inhales and exhales. “Good boy. Keep breathing with me. Good job. I know this is a big transition for you, and it’s going to be difficult getting used to your new life.”

I whimpered, “My… new life?” Hayes reached a hand behind me to pull the breakfast tray to him. He brought the cup of apple juice to my lips, smiling when I cautiously opened my mouth to drink.

“You will live as mine and Hudson’s pet.” Setting the cup down, he began to feed me the rest of my meal as he continued to talk. “You won’t stay down here for long. It’s just for a few days, or until you’re ready to go upstairs.”

“But what does that mean? Being your pet? I-I-I don’t understand. You’re fucking insane,” I exasperated.

“Well, it’s just what it sounds like. You’ve never heard of pet play?” I was going to scream. Was he saying they kidnapped me for a kinky fantasy of theirs?

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you guys?” I fumed, using the weird mitten contraptions on my hands to push away the toast Hayes was nudging against my pursed lips. He rolled his eyes at me, taking a bite and tossing it aside.

“Many things,” he divulged, a slow smirk spreading across his chiseled face. “But I promise we’ll be dedicated owners. If you’re good, you’ll want for nothing. You’ll have all the toys, treats, and attention you want.”

I hesitated, my eyebrows furrowed, “What if I’m bad?” I yelped as Hayes lunged forward, knocking me onto the ground and wrapping his hand around my throat. I swallowed nervously as he hovered above me, predatory intent clear in his expression. Lowering his body so that it covered my own, he rolled his hips, grinding his erection over my embarrassingly tiny shorts.

My jaw clenched as I held back a moan from his frotting. Hayes tightened his grip around my throat, causing me to gasp for air.

He leaned his head to the side, breathing into my ear. His voice wrapped around my brain as he murmured lowly, “Do you want to find out, pet? There are so many delicious ways to punish you.” My chest burned as his hand around my neck squeezed even harder.

I choked out, “N-no, I-I’ll be good.”

“Have you noticed that your shorts get wetter the harder I choke you?” he purred, leaving his one hand on my throat but using his other to travel seductively down my body, petting me all the way down to my intimate area. My breath hitched as his fingers slid underneath the waistband.

“Wait, H-Hayes, don’t,” I gasped.

“How many fingers did Hudson use in this dripping boy cunt of yours?” My brain stuttered at his vulgar language. Hayes pushed a finger into me, his voice dangerously sultry as he demanded, “Oliver, speak.” His finger pumped in and out with great force.

“T-two. Please, don’t,” I panted.

He hummed, pushing in a second finger, “Two isn’t nearly enough to prepare you for our cocks.” I whined pitifully, my hips shaking, as I listened to the wet slapping of his palm against my skin. Every once in awhile, he’d grind his palm down onto my dick.

“I’m close,” I whimpered.

He tsked. “You can come, but I’m not stopping until your greedy little hole takes four of my fingers.”

“I can’t—that’s too much,” I begged, tears welling up in my eyes as I stared up at him.

“Shhh.”

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